Khumar

Is there anything here

That is not drunk

Have you heard the way

The blackbird sings
And how the sparrows
Play around

There is only one being

The ancient one 

His ways are such

That his multiplicity

Knows his oneness 

All parts of the whole

Are the whole itself

With full awareness

Every expression of him

Is his own story 

And his glory

The falling leaf

Was infact a butterfly 

I don't know 

Myself anymore

I was in search of 

His knowledge

But he is a drink 

He himself a spoilt

The distant stars
The white clouds
The moon
Have arrived here now

Now there is only 

One thing going on

I am